


Craig's Dictionary (demons in human skin)

by Lucenthia



Category: South Park
Genre: Drama, Oneshot, Potential Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucenthia/pseuds/Lucenthia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig finds meaning in silences and interprets the gaps in between sentences. He thinks he understands what his friends want to say as they fall apart, and as he himself descends into madness. Find out the hidden meaning behind his own words, and the things he could never say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Craig's Dictionary (demons in human skin)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a warning in case you didn't read the tags. There will be content in here that might trigger people. So while I love it when people read my stuff, if depressing stuff isn't your thing, then I wouldn't advise you to keep on reading.  
> Otherwise, enjoy!

My name's Craig Tucker and this is a dictionary. It's needed because I know now there's a disconnect between English and my words. What is heard is not what I mean, and it's only now that I'm trying to correct this. I wish I'd had this earlier, but when I was with Tweek and then with Kenny, this didn't cross my mind. At first I thought it was them. Then I thought it was me. Now I know it's my words, not me.

Anyways, let's get started. The most common word I use is _.._. It means, "I acknowledge what you said, but I don't know what to say."

I know this isn't a conventional word, but words are just expressions of emotion, and that word expressed plenty. A lot of people think it's a silence, but like a lot of words I use, there are hidden meanings behind it.

Whenever Kenny joked about drugs to cover up his frustration towards his parents for ruining their lives with it, I'd just say " _.._."

Whenever Clyde talked about sports, and slung one arm over my shoulder while he ranted about the game the other night, I'd just say " _..._."

Whenever Tweek was telling me his latest conspiracy theory, I'd just say " _.._."

You see, I had nothing to say about meth, football, or Tweek's wild theories. Did I mind them talking about it? No. But what was I supposed to say? A conversation with Stan might go like this:

"I mean, my parents don't even care about me. They just use me as leverage against each other, it's such bullshit."

" _.._."

"It's just that I have feelings. I'm a human being, but they treat me like a piece of furniture that needs taking care of. If they're going to divorce, fine, but at least acknowledge my existence"

" _..._."

"They say they care about me, but all they care about is themselves and how much of our stuff they can get away with. I'm just collateral. Another burden no one wants to be stuck with."

"… _*_ "

"Ah, fuck it, it's not like you care. God knows why I even talk to you. Probably just cheap booze, and the fact you're not Kenny."

You see how the  _..._  was used? I acknowledged what was going on in Stan's messed up home life, but what could I do? More importantly, what could I say? Repeat, "I'm sorry", like everyone else had? Say I knew what he was going through when I obviously didn't? I acknowledged what he had said, but I had no clue what to say.

I hope you noticed the asterisk, *. It's like a footnote, but I didn't put a footnote anywhere. You know why? It's because I always forget to put one. It's when I mean to say something, but I don't know how to express it. It's when I have something to say but I leave it to one side, and as usual, forget about it.

* They  _treat_  you like collateral. Whether or not you are is up to you.

I'll give an example. There was that time Tweek was freaking out over something, I forget. I always did. But I remember this time was pretty bad because he was scratching at his arms again. We'd just gotten him to stop, but he was starting again.

"Dude, stop." I said, "You're making it worse."

"Sorry, man. I didn't mean to piss you off."

"I'm not pissed off."

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Right, sor-"

"Don't apologize."

"Yeah, okay. Sorr-"

"Shut up *."

You see, in that conversation, I ended it with "shut up * ". The asterisk was meant to remind me to comfort Tweek. To tell him that I cared about him, and that there was no need to ever apologize because he'd never done anything wrong. But I left it to one side and forgot about it. And all Tweek ever heard was me telling him to shut up.

The next symbol I use a lot is ||. It's exactly what it looks like: a wall. A barrier between myself and another person in the form of a hostile silence. This isn't the friendly type of silence that Tweek and I lived off, when we'd sit in his room and listen to the meditative music that was meant too calm him and smoking stuff that actually did. Those were the days before he ran but didn't race.

I didn't use the || with him back in the day. Of course, by the time Kenny started derailing I was using it on everyone, and everyone used it on me. We would close ourselves off and hide from everyone, ourselves included.

I developed it against my parents. I remember talking with them over a typical family dinner.

"Hey, Craig, I hear your cousin Charlie got engaged. There's going to be a wedding in a few months down in Denver."

"…"

"So, are there any girls in your year you like? It's never too early, ya know."

"Not really||"

"Well, you'd better get started. Who knows when your old man might kick the bucket. I want some grandchildren to see before that happens."

"Okay||"

"Hey, it'd do you some good to lighten up a little."

"…||"

A standard conversation with Kyle in sophomore year went like this.

"Fuck, I failed that last Math test." Kyle and I shared a lot more classes than I would have thought, and sadly that meant he would use me as a place to vent his many frustrations. It used to piss me off, but in the end I didn't care. And better me than Ike.

"You got a seventy eight percent, that's more than a pass. You wanna see my score?"

"I don't care about your score, and neither does my mom." Kyle grumbled.

"Right, because the world ends if you can't ace every test and impress your mommy."

"Fuck you! Until you can actually care about something, then don't tell me how nothing matters."

A few months ago I would have splashed him with more sarcasm that would goad him into throwing a punch like he always did. Unlike his victim, I could fight back, and I used to look forward to kicking his hotheaded ass onto the ground. But that time I just couldn't bring myself to care.

"…"

"Don't just fucking shut up."

"||"

Kyle would glare at me, and maybe say something else, but I'd just reply with another simple "||" and he'd eventually stop. We would usually hang out in Tweek's basement to run from our parents. We convinced ourselves that if we could do that, we could run away from anything.

Stan wasn't there that time, because even then the two had started falling apart. Neither got the empathy they needed from the other. Kenny was there and had his head resting in my lap. That was the brief period when we were going out without worrying what was real and what wasn't.

He was the only one who would talk to Stan or Kyle. Cartman had jumped ship the moment he saw the leaks, and I'm pretty sure he's living the corrupt and corporate life right now and loving it.

"Dude, fuck your mom." Kenny might say, "She doesn't rule your mind."

"But she rules my life," Kyle said, "And sometimes she just yells at me through all of dinner, and makes me feel worthless." He glared at Kenny who was about to say something and continued, "And don't tell me it's irrational, alright? I fucking know it's stupid, but that doesn't stop me from feeling things."

"…" Kenny said. He and I were both thinking of Ike and how he felt. But neither of us said anything else.

I remember one time I saw Kenny at a rock concert in Denver. This was actually the week after Bebe's parents had frantically called the poison unit as they knelt over their 'baby girl'. Of course, I didn't even know that much as I watched his pale skin glisten with sweat as cold as condensation off a window. I pulled him to his feet, yelling, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fuck off." I had to read Kenny's lips because of the yelling and music in the background.

"You're gonna turn out just like your parents if you keep on getting strung out like that."

"_____ _"_  Kenny's body had grown limp and I was literally dragging him across the floor.

"Jesus Christ, what's Kyle gonna think? He'll rip you a new one."

" _______"_

"And what about Karen? You want her seeing you like this?"

"I don't care/"

That was all I had been able to get out of him and I bundled him into Stan's car. We had been drinking together on the steps outside the concert when Kyle had called us and said he'd lost track of Kenny. They'd known something was up, and that was how I got roped into looking for a junior junkie.

Now we come to another two symbols.  ______  and /. To most people, saying '_____' is a silence. But to me, and to Kenny too, the word  _______  meant an unheard mumble. Background music that got ignored. It could be anything from an agreement to a whimper of despair that no one, me included, could hear. Kenny would probably add even more embellishment onto that definition, because he had a flair for drama. It started with a hero living in the darkness and ended with a note in the light of dawn.

The / sign is a contradiction sign. It's a sign to say, "I don't mean it, I could never mean it, and I'm screaming out for help but don't know how. When Kenny used it, it meant that he cared so much he was scared of yelling for help. Because having so much care only left him vulnerable, and everyone knew it.

Kenny rarely used the / sign. I mostly heard it when I drank with Stan, or from Kyle during the rare times we hung out. It usually happened after a big test, during which Kyle would distance himself away from us, then gradually sidle back into our lives. Then he blew up at us and left us for a few weeks, and the cycle went on.

"I just gotta get good grades." Kyle had said one night after the entire year had failed some stupid US History test.

"…" You'll remember that it means, 'I acknowledge what you said, but I don't know what to say.'

"I'm not trying to be selfish or anything," Kyle said to Stan, who just grunted. "I know your home life's complete shit. But my mom's always done everything she can for me, and it's like I can't do shit to repay her."

"Don't stress, it just makes things worse." I said. Even though Kyle and Stan used to be best friends, Stan's funks meant he almost never talked.

"Gee, thanks, that really helps." Kyle snapped back, "At least I try. What do you do? Enable Stan?"

"At least he's around." Kenny retorted. "Where were you last night? Studying for pre-SAT's?" Even then I knew he should have just shut up. Or maybe stick with a "…".

Kyle's face always flushed when he was angry, and he started lighting up. "Fuck you, if your parents started yelling at you every time you didn't get full marks because 'I'm not reaching my potential' then maybe you'd understand why I'm actually working!"

Kenny just shrugged after the outburst. He didn't react well to confrontation, probably because of his history with his parents. But Kyle was looking for a fight and kept on talking. "But I guess actually working's a foreign concept to you and your deadbeat parents/"

Kenny froze and said, "|| ||"

Kyle looked away and shut up for the rest of the day.

He hadn't meant what he'd said. He'd wished he could have taken it back the instant he'd said it and hated himself for what he was turning into.

Fuck, I remember when Stan and Kyle were such good friends they their moms thought they were gay for each other. But after Stan's granddad died, his dad hit the drink hard, and hit his son even harder. Shelly was in college, meaning there was no one left to stick up for Stan. At the same time, Kyle's mom was stressing about SATs and ACTs, not to mention Ike skipping yet another grade. This put him in eighth grade, even though he was just ten.

I'd hear the bitch sometimes. "Kyle, I know you're busy, but this is good for you. You need to compete with students in the city."

"But ma, I'm already top of the class, I sometimes even beat Wendy."

"Oh, good for you," His mom would say, "You  _sometimes_  beat some girl who's more interested in saving the environment than actually reaching her full potential."

"Wendy's my friend," Kyle would mutter, but his mom would yell and drown him out, like she always did. Kyle would try to tread water, but eventually get towed away by his mom's expectations and veiled insults that he wasn't good enough.

"We moved all the way from Jersey for you, and this is how you repaid us? Why can't you be more like Ike? You're the older one!"

Ike would look ashamed and try to apologize afterwards, but Kyle was too stressed to bother. He couldn't stand up to his mom, and it hurt. Did more to his self-esteem than any hollering could ever do. But he could stand up to Ike, couldn't he.

But back to his use of the / sign. When he used the /, it was to completely contradict what he'd said, because no one deserved to have that said to them.

But he may as well have put an asterisk there, because we all went through the motions of not caring, and the world went on.

So did Kyle. And as he ranted about his mom and Ike and his dad and Stan and his life to no one in particular, I let it harmonize into the normal blur of background noise while I set a slow rhythm with the smoke I blew out of my mouth.

That was a long example for a simple symbol. A shorter one would be when I'd sit in Kenny's room after he'd done something stupid yet again. Sometimes he would come back bruised and holding himself gingerly while he made his way up the stairs. Sometimes I'd be carrying his malnourished body into the toilet while he vomited up the alcohol he'd tried to ingest.

"Why do you keep on doing this to yourself?" I would ask.

"It doesn't matter. Karen's grown out of needing some stupid angel. She's in middle school now. Mysterion was for me, not her. I wanted to feel like I was worth something, even though I'm just a dirt-poor redneck not with a dime kicked into the gutter."

"_____"

Kenny ignored me. "Sometimes I even miss Kevin. That fucker. I wake up and wonder why he didn't yell at me to come down, or throw me out of my room because he didn't want another deadbeat McCormick in this town."

"…"

"I love you."

"No you don't. You're high/"

" ______"_

"I didn't mean it like that."

" ______"_

"Fine * "

Kenny would say he loved me a lot after we'd hooked up. I think it meant a lot of things, and he could make an entire dictionary on the ways he'd say 'I love you'. But this isn't about him, this is about me. When I used the /, it was in complete contradiction of what I meant. I wanted to yell that I loved him too, and that if he really loved me he'd stop trying to slowly kill himself. I sometimes mentioned how precious life was, and he'd just roll his eyes. But when I used the / it was to cancel out everything I said and write the opposite.

* It's only now, three years later, that I realized I wanted to tell you that you did love me and I loved you. I'm so sorry.

Here, I'll give you another example. It was after Kenny kissed me at Cartman's fifteenth birthday party.

"What the hell was that?"

"A kiss." Kenny said, "Thought you could use it."

"Maybe if you thought more you'd realize what a dick move that was."

"If a dick move is what you want, a dick move is what you'll get." Kenny grinned and looped his arms around my neck and his cracked lips slowly parted as we slowly drew closer.

That was a moment where I would have said … and where I would want to do or say something but wouldn't. Luckily, Kenny seemed to understand, more than Tweek or anyone else. When we kissed, his tongue ran itself over my teeth and he cradled my jaw as if I'd disappear if he clutched too hard.

When we broke apart, he grinned. "Boyfriends?"

"It was a one time thing/"

"I'll call you." Kenny's smile made the bags around his eyes fade, and he seemed so alive.

"Fuck off. * "

Kenny sighed and would have said more if Cartman hadn't poked his head out the window. "Hey, redneck! We're cutting the cake, so come in if you want more of my free food!"

Kenny shrugged and walked in, leaving me to stand in Cartman's yard, staring blankly into the night. In that incident, the / was to say, "Yes. I don't know what boyfriends even mean, and I don't even know if I'm gay, but yes."

* I'm scared, Kenny. Just look at everyone around us. Wendy and Stan hate each other, our parents yell themselves asleep because they 'love' each other, and that scares me because is that all love has to offer?

The next symbol I'm talking about is ~ and this one comes up a lot. It's a fadeout. It's when you leave a sentence hanging because you need the other person will pick it up. It's when there's so much pure emotion in your head that you don't want to diminish it by shoehorning it into plain words, and just hope someone else will understand.

There was one time we were sitting on the bench outside Stark's Pond and looking up at the stars, after we had lost one of our own to the real world and realized we could be next. We would talk about aliens, and Tweek had said, "You know, we're like stars, each and every one of us."

"You know I hate that corny bullshit about shining through the darkness, right?"

"Nah, that's not what I meant." Tweek had said, "You see all these stars? We think that they're so close, sometimes even closer than the moon. We think that we know the constellations and how they're made up. But it's all bullshit. Constellations don't mean jack when some stars are billions of light years away. And the light we find so inspiring? That light was made millions of years ago and it's only just reached us."

"Are you high?" I asked, "Where's this coming from?" I had been going out with Kenny for a few months by this time, and had gotten used to talking metaphysics and philosophy with him. But Tweek and I normally talked about comic books or conspiracy theories.

"We're like the stars because everyone thinks we're so close, but we're actually so far away and so distant. Then we die, and no one notices because they still think we're shining."

"Tweek, what are you saying?" I asked, knowing what he was getting at.

"No one notices stars going out until millions of years have passed."

"…"

"No one would notice if I-"

"I would*"

"…"

"I would~"

"|| _._ "

See how Tweek immediately shut me off? That || was effective against anything, even the raw emotion behind my 'I would'.

* Don't die and leave me. You're the most precious friend I've ever had.

I used a lot of symbols with Kenny, but he understood me most of the time. He would use them too, and we would talk in silence most of the time. He and his family lived like a fractured window. They were shards of glass held together by a rotting frame. Ever since Kenny had been able to fight back against his dad, the house would ferment in a toxic silence.

After desperately making out in Kenny's room, the two of us would sit and talk. "You're turning into your parents."

"…"

"I know you want to do something, but why don't you actually do something?"

"_____", Kenny replied.

"Can you just tell me why you're doing this? I mean, your home life's always been shit. What's changed?"

"Nothing. I just realized that there's no point to anything we do."

"What about Mysterion?"

"He never meant anything/"

"If he meant so much to you then where is he?"

"Gone."

"…"

I think I know what changed. It was us. I think Kenny used to take solace in his friends, and how they had normal lives. They'd say stupid shit, do stupid shit, and end the day laughing their asses off. That was before Kyle's temper had been honed into a dangerous point that ostracized him; before Stan walked into a stupor of alcohol and self-pity and lay down there, waiting for the world to end; before we filed into the gym and had to listen to Mr. Mackey talk about Bebe; before everything fell apart, and Kenny fell with it all.

In the last conversation I remember having with Clyde, he could have done with a dictionary. I think he'd just turned sixteen, because he was wearing a varsity jacket while he had his hand on my shoulder. "Dude, I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore."

" _..._ "

"So, please, I'm telling you now, get the fuck away from Tweek and Kenny."

"||"

"They're dragging you down, dude. You've been distant, but never this moody. All you think about is Tweek and Kenny. I know you worry about them, and your grades have been slipping."

"…~"

Clyde shoved me in frustration. "Don't just say look at me without even saying anything, man. Just say something for Christ's sake!"

"_____||"

"Don't you even care about what Tweek and Kenny are doing to you?" Clyde was emotional, and back then he was angry. He cried a lot as well, and people used to think it made him weak. They'd call him a huge teddy bear. But when I look at Kenny who always smiled when he showed me his pristine wrists, or Kyle who displayed his turmoil with fists instead of tears, I think Clyde was the strong one.

"Of course I care about them*." I said.

"That's not what I fucking mean!" Clyde yelled.

"I know~"

That's all I remember. The conversation went on after that, but it's all a blur. It ended with me giving Clyde the finger because he didn't understand what the ~ meant. To be fair, neither did I. He never picked up on the emotion behind those two words, nor did he pick up on the *.

* Don't make me choose between you and them, because it's fucking killing me. So I'm just acting dumb, because it's better than admitting the truth.

That wasn't the last time I saw Clyde, of course. South Park's a tiny jail, and inmates always saw each other. We even hung out sometimes. I use the term loosely, because by hang out I mean sat in the vicinity of each other. He was going out with Bebe, and Kenny liked to hang around her. They probably had a fling together that I don't care about. That was probably why they were both over at the police station the night it happened.

I think we were all scared when we heard the news, because it was a wakeup call. I think that was the night the kid in us all died, because that was when we realized we weren't untouchable. We thought that we'd always have some second chance, or that things would get better. Sure, Ike had been walking around with a scowl and black eyes for a few months, and Stan's knuckles were bruised and scraped from when his dad hit the drink a little too hard, but I think there was always that hope that everything would get better, that it would change.

The most shocking thing was how pristine she looked, like a church without a keystone, with all its stained glass and hard stone just waiting to crumble at the slightest touch. Her eyes were red, and her knees were curled close to her heaving chest. She held a cigarette in between two quivering fingers and stared at the wall while the rest of us sat around her.

When Wendy came, she tried to hug Bebe, but stopped when Bebe flinched away from her. Nothing was said, or at least, nothing explicitly.

"Are you okay? *"

"Yeah/"

"What did the cops say?"

"Nothing much/"

"We'll get the fuckers that did this."

"…"

"This is shit."

"Yeah."

"Bebe, I'm sorry…"

"_____~~ _"_

All of us were suspended the next week when we went back to school. Someone catcalled Bebe, and someone else said she should've enjoyed it. I'm not ashamed to say that their stay in the hospital lasted longer than our suspension.

"You know, I found four razors in Bebe's room." Kenny said to me the next day. I was grounded, of course, but Kenny had been scaling buildings since he was nine. I'd tell him he'd kill himself, and he'd just laugh with the same abandon as a man on death row.

"…"

"Do you ever wonder what the afterlife is like?" Kenny asked. He lazily cast a dull gaze in my direction.

"No. *"

* No, because I'm scared of dying and how close we all are to it, and I don't want to talk about it so please stop.

"Sometimes it's hard to tell what's hell and what's earth." Kenny said, "I've seen both so many times I think you're a monster in human skin trying to torment me."

There was a pause, then I said, "Maybe I am."

"You're not." Kenny said, "I've seen monsters in hell and earth, and I know you're not."

"Thanks."

We talked more, but I can't remember what happened afterwards. When I woke up the next day, I was shivering and clawing at my knees from a nightmare I'd had. I had dreamt that Kenny was still talking to me, and he suddenly pulled out the razor blades he'd taken from Bebe.

" _Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if you knew, Craig."_ He had said,  _"I die so many times, hell is like a second home to me. I see people dancing in a lake of fire, and when I see us dancing in despair, I think the lake of fire's just an average day, and God made us live in this world for an eternity."_

" _Okay."_ I had replied, still thinking he was in a metaphysical mood. He would get into them once in a while, although it usually had to do with an existential crisis brought on by weed or whatever he was pumping his body with.

" _Maybe this is hell, and killing ourselves is the only way to live again."_ He pushed the razor blades up to his neck and sawed at the pale skin. My mouth gaped and my body felt cold as I saw blood spurt out all over Kenny and the floor. His mouth opened in a grin as blood oozed past his yellowed teeth. As his body fell to the floor, I tried to catch him, but then I woke up and clutched at myself to make sure I was real; the damp bedsheets plastered to my chest were real.

I had recurring dreams of Kenny killing himself in front of me over the next few months. Most of the time it was with razors, but the most haunting ones were anything but the standard suicides. One time I dreamt that I walked into my room after another day at school only to find him hanging from my ceiling. Other times I dreamt Kenny would take a gun and blow different parts of his head off. He would try to shoot a bullet through his eye without hitting his brain. He always laughed hysterically when he actually succeeded, and his convulsions helped spray the bile and blood in my direction.

" _Demons in human skin,"_ He would yell,  _"Demons in human skin!"_ I always denied it when I woke up, but when I saw him mangle and twist every limb in his body by jumping in front of a truck, I wasn't so sure.

I hated those dreams. It made me question when I was dreaming and when I was awake. If I could walk through the school halls in a daze, not hearing my teachers yell at the kids, not seeing my former friends close themselves off, not feeling anything but a dull cold weight in my stomach, then why couldn't that be the dream?

Dreams involving Kenny were sharp, clear, and burned themselves into my memory with scars that still last today. I was living in a hell where Kenny died over and over again. And every time, he would cry out for me to remember. 

And I did.

" _Remember this time!"_ Kenny slowly raised the barrel one night.  _"Remember!"_

I sat there transfixed as Kenny yelled,  _"REMEMBER!"_ and shot himself. His trembling hand missed and blasted apart his ear, which dangled from his head like a door in a hinge. This dream had happened before, but each repetition shocked me as much as the first.

" _REMEMBER!"_

He tried again, but this time the bullet traced a groove through his left eye and across his forehead. He writhed on the ground but kept his grip on the gun while blood carved cursive script over unmarked skin, writing words that could never be said.

It was only after the third time that Kenny hit his target. His blood oozed out of his skin and sunk into the cracked floorboards. I remember wondering if he would wake up, if he would come back to life, or maybe be reanimated as a corpse before waking up myself.

I didn't know what was a dream and what actually mattered. I'd see all of us walking in hallways that swayed like seaweed on the bottom of Stark's Pond, and sometimes I'd think I was drowning. I would look at my classmates and see the monsters and demons inside. I would see brutality hidden behind their eyes.

"Dude, wanna hang out tonight?" Stan asked one day, "My dad hasn't been home in a while."

"No *."

* I don't see the point, we're drowning anyways, who cares if it's in alcohol, some abstract fears, or stagnant water at the bottom of Stark's Pond.

"Come on, Kyle's menstruating over the ACT's and I haven't seen Kenny all day."

I had seen Kenny last night in a dream, when he had hung himself upside down before slitting his throat. He had choked on the blood that flowed into his mouth and spasmed frantically midair, jerking his limbs until he either bled out or was choked on his own blood. A double suicide, first by his razors and next by his very blood.

"No.||" I was getting scared. Why was he insisting? Was he trying to get me alone?

"Please, I need this." Stan had said, "I asked Shelly but she wants nothing to do with South Park. There's no one else."

There never was. "||"

"Please, man, why are you doing this?" Stan floated towards me and draped his arms around my shoulders, but I frantically swam away.

"______"

"Please~"

But I didn't say anymore, and I didn't hear anything else. The water we were drowning in muted his voice and he faded out of view.

After that, Tweek was the only one who tried talking to me, and even then I think he had started racing.

"Dude, I'm worried about you."

"Oh~"

"Please, I think my anxiety's getting worse." He lowered his voice and made sure no one was around us. Even then I knew he was being paranoid. We were standing outside his house where all of us used to sit there and blaze a trail to oblivion with whatever means we could find.

By then, no one else would go there.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Just act normal." Tweek said, "You've been staring off into space, and sometimes you feel the walls like you don't know if they're solid or not." His eyes then narrowed. "Have you been taking acid?"

I shrugged. "No."

"I don't believe you," Tweek yelled, "The rest of us are so fucked up you just had to take yourself down with us?"

"||"

"Please, Craig, I need you~"

"||"

"Don't take acid, I need you here."

"I'm not taking acid.||"

"That's exactly what a junkie would say!"

"Fine, maybe I am high on LSD all the time because it's the only way to get away from you shitbags/"

After that, Tweek only talked to me twice more. During his absence, I started getting scared of Kenny. I broke it off with him the day after.

One of my last conversations I remember having in South Park was with Ike of all people. It sure as hell wasn't planned. I had just had an argument with Kenny. I had almost broken down in front of him, but had never got to that point. I was avoiding him, afraid that he was the demon in human skin, and that if I opened him up, all I would see was twitching maggots animating his long dead body.

"You've been avoiding me." Kenny had stopped smiling. He hid in his hoodie all the time.

"I have."

"Mind telling me why? Last I checked, we were going out." He stumbled towards me but I backed off.

"I can't. I can't do this," I said, "You scare me."

"Why? What about me is scary?" Kenny regarded me with empty sockets. He shivered in front of me along with the ground he stood on. For one moment I saw small hands clawing their way out of his eye sockets and mouth, controlling him like a hand puppet. They were dry and sharp, shredding his gum as they stretched towards me. My breath stopped and I took a step back, wanting to run, wanting to scream, wanting to-

Then I saw him for real. He stood totally still like a corpse in the bottom of Stark's Pond. "||" I said.

"What have I done?"

"Nothing *."

* I'm scared of you. You should be dead.

"Do you want to hang out like old times? We haven't done it in a while."

"No *"

* You kill yourself _over and over again._

"Have you been noticing where I've been going when I skip school?"

"No *~"

* _YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT SCHOOL!? YOU HAVE_ _ **DIED**_ _AND I KNOW IT!_

"Are you sure?" Kenny stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders. "Is there anything you remember? Anything at all?"

"No *"

* YOU'RE A DEMON IN HUMAN SKIN GET AWAY FROM ME

"Are you sure?" Kenny yelled, " _Are you sure?"_ He shook my shoulders and I pushed him away, falling on the ground in the process. He looked at his own hands like they were infected, and retreated further into his parka.  _"TELL ME!"_

Everything in front of me flickered, and for a moment I saw Kenny morph into Bebe. Blond hair flowed from her head and straggled to the ground. She opened his mouth and an abnormally large tongue dangled limply and slick with saliva. Blood seemed to pour from her neck as it always did, but this time it gushed towards me, wanting to invade me just like she had been.

_Demons in human skin_

So I ran. I didn't know where my feet were taking me until I stumbled into Stark's Pond. The water flooded my shoe and I withdrew it quickly. I sat on the bank, and only noticed Ike when he coughed. Looking back, it was probably one of the first times he had tried a cigarette. He handled it awkwardly. The bruises along his arm didn't help either.

"The fuck are you doing here?" He huddled into a ball, like he was scared I'd take out my stress on him. But I didn't kick the baby.

"Just felt like it."

"Bullshit." Ike said, "You're shaking, and you never come here anyways." The little guy was always smart.

"…"

"Does it have anything to do with Tweek?"

"Tweek?"

"He's been skipping school more and more, and last week he was suspended for starting a fight with the entire year. He said they were planning on killing you and him."

"…"

"You don't care?"

"He's not my friend anymore/"

"Maybe you should tell him that."

"I don't care."

"Uh huh." Ike's swollen left eye narrowed even further in sharp skepticism.

"You really want to get hit? I'm just pissed off enough to knock you into the pond/"

I hadn't expected the bluff to work, but Ike's defiance had been blunted by Kyle, and he settled for a sneer. Still, what he said made me curious. The next time I went to school I kept my eyes open for Tweek. It took me a few days because Tweek was either suspended or skipping when I started looking around again. During that time, I noticed Stan's seat was empty, and Kyle's seat was taken by a single-minded and bitter monster with a roaring furnace inside.

Kenny was nowhere to be seen.

I also saw Clyde and Token passing each other notes, and for a moment the school seemed to jerk back into a steady position. The teacher's voice seemed clearer, and I even made eye contact with Clyde. His mouth gaped in shock, but I quickly looked away.

Then Tweek shambled into the room, and I started feeling a stupor come over me. He was even thinner than usual. His eyes were sunken and lined with bags. He stared into space like he was seeing some final destination. When class was let out, I grabbed his shoulder and said, "What's happened to you?"

"Nothing.||"

"Do you want to hang out?"

"We can't be seen together. They can't know we're talking."

"…"

"Come at Stark's Pond." Tweek whispered. His arm was shaking, and he wore a slew of armbands over his forearms. I didn't want to know what was under them.

"I've been seeing so many things." Tweek said, dangling his bare feet into the scummy water. "Things are so different, you know?"

I thought of the time I dreamt Kenny electrocuted himself, jerking in my room. I recalled dreams of slit throats and demons from hell. "Yeah, things are different."

"I feel like I'm running to something now. That's the difference. You're running away but I'm running to something."

He paused. "I bet I get there faster than you."

"Get where?"

"To the finish line." Tweek said.

I didn't know how long Tweek's euphoria would last. I just didn't think it would end so quickly. He drove me to Denver a week later. Kenny was the only reason I'd agreed. He had climbed through my window the night before, and I had swung at him with all my strength. He ducked and stared at me. "Craig, what the fuck?"

"Get away from me." I said.

"Why? What did I do?"

"Get out *"

* I can't say that I dream you die because that's just crazy.

"Craig, please, you're the only one left. All the others are stuck in their own worlds."

"And you think I'm not?~" There was so much I wanted to tell him. Maybe if I had just revealed how insane I was, or maybe if Kenny had this dictionary, things could have been different.

"Craig, I-"

"||"

"Please, I-"

"I never want to see you again/"

I don't remember whether Kenny left, or whether he stayed. But that night was the last time I dreamed about Kenny. His figure was blurred and his orange parka flowed like streamers in the wind as he ran. He was dragging me along with him to his dilapidated house. He was laughing the whole way, and I was relieved there were human teeth in his mouth, not something horrifyingly surreal.

That came later.

He brought me into his house and cried into my shoulder. He said he was so sorry for everything he'd done. He said he'd been killing himself over and over again because he couldn't die, and that he couldn't deal with it anymore.

 _Demons in human skin,_ I thought, but he shuddered in a ball with sharp knees tucked around his head.

Bebe had been in that position when we saw her brought back to us. It was a monster in human skin that had devoured her, and she was still a walking corpse. Remembering how she had been silently crying out, I slowly approached Kenny. I held him in my arms and brought his lips to mine. I wasn't scared in the dream. There could have been a monster just waiting inside him, but there was nothing but human warmth.

My hands explored the skin around his neck before opening the parka. I hadn't known what to expect when I opened it, but his skinny torso shone from behind his parka with flawless and pale skin. His trousers were shrugged off and his legs twined around my waist, drawing me closer.

I wasn't scared.

That was the best part about that dream. I wasn't scared of him. I never feared what lay behind his soft skin, like he was eaten from his heart to the hairs on his arm before being repaired from the outside. I wrapped him in my arms, and at first I thought I was devouring him. I felt like my ribs were opening up to swallow the fragile boy in front of me, but I had to remember I wasn't

_demon in human skin_

able to hurt him. My mouth sucked in his breath as our lips crashed together again, and his tongue worked his way around my mouth. It clung to the roof of my mouth like it was trying to stay stuck inside me. My hands sped across his body feverishly. I thought Kenny would evaporate and fade, and was trying to remember every inch of him.

But he didn't fade.

Ghostly fingers glided downwards past my navel and between my legs. His eyes never left my face, and I locked gazes with him as he made me shiver with sensations so strong I felt like my entire life had been muted. His laughter was as clear as chime bells as he felt me stiffen beneath his touch. His body seemed frail and thin, but his legs wrapped around me like thick wires. I languished in his embrace while he fervently stroked me. All the while, his blue eyes glimmered like stars.

I thought of Tweek and his belief that everyone was isolated by thousands of parsecs, but in that moment, I knew he was wrong. Kenny had never felt closer.

I tried to keep looking at him through the whole night, but I had to close my eyes when I climaxed. A rush of emotions sent my bones tingling, though I still can't recall what those exact emotions were. It didn't matter. I felt flames from a furnace churn in my chest and groin, and I clung to Kenny's torso like a piece of flotsam in the middle of the ocean.

When the sun started coming up, I said,  _"I dream about you dying."_ I would never have said it in real life, but I had courage in my dreams that I didn't elsewhere.

Kenny's face was hidden in the crook of my shoulder, and I continued,  _"That's why I've been scared of you. I'm sorry."_

Kenny still didn't say anything at first, but then said,  _"Your reality is a dream and your nightmares are real."_

" _What do you mean?"_ I asked.

" _You've been living in a dream and need a wake-up call."_ Kenny straddled me so I his aged, childlike face was inches from mine.  _"I'm sorry."_

He leaned in to kiss me again, and my spine stiffened from toe to collarbone, letting myself imprint his touch onto my memory. His fingers were brands that blistered my flesh, but I didn't care, I would do it again and again if it meant having proof of our union. I wanted this to leave permanent scars on me so I would know that in some time, and in some place, I was truly

_a demon in human skin_

loved.

Then Kenny got up and strode to his drawer. His naked figure shivered in the air, like smoke on the end of a cigarette, and he opened the drawer and pulled out his gun. I knew what would happen now. It always did.  _"You're right, I do die all the time. But this is the last time you'll see me do it."_

He walked forward and kissed me deeply, tracing invisible words only he could see on my skin. I knew I would be swept away by an inexorable tide, so I clutched him as tightly as I could to my chest.

It wasn't enough. A gunshot and the routinely splatter of blood later, I woke up. I huddled underneath my covers crying. It hadn't been real. I had felt Kenny more than ever before, and it hadn't been real. I had seen him exposed and he was beautiful. I never would again. The exhilaration I had felt as I had kissed him was gone. The marks on my skin were gone.

And life continued.

That's what I thought, at least, but I was wrong. A few minutes after I had woken, Tweek had called me and asked me out to Denver. He had been lucky. I would have refused any other time.

He didn't say anything on the drive there. He only started talking when he brought me up to the top of a building. He stretched out his arms and slowly turned on the spot. "Just look at it, Craig."

"What?"

"All the people. They're moving so slowly. From work to home to a bar to their death. They're just walking, distracting themselves from the race they're in."

"What race?"

"We're all on a one-way track to death, Craig, but no one wants to admit it."

"Tweek~"

"We've been running for so long, but you never ran in the right direction."

"What are you doing?"

"Come with me, Craig, It's not too late for you." Tweek walked forward to the edge of the building and spread his arms. He turned back to me and I saw red puppet strings holding up his arms that soared into the heaven. I was swimming, and my eyes could barely make out Tweek's twitching face.

His entire body quivered, though I couldn't tell if that was a natural twitch or some puppet master in the sky controlling him. "I'm racing there. I'll be the first of us to make it to the finish line. But I'm willing to share first place with you."

He twitched again, and his clothes seemed to glow before turning orange. Suddenly it was Kenny looking at me with a grin on his face, with blood staining his blond hair. He opened his mouth, and grimy hands snaked their way out between his teeth and beckoned to me.  _"Come on, Craig. Race with me."_

"|| || ||"

" _Why aren't you saying anything?"_ Kenny threw his head back and laughed, then threw it back even further until his spine had bent in a semicircle and he was staring at me from between his legs.  _"Race ya! Race ya!"_

I slowly stepped forward while my surroundings blurred once again. When it came back into focus, Tweek was back, but he had a disoriented grin on his face that looked exactly like the one on Kenny's. He was trembling and I even thought I could see his breath exhale in a tenuous stream. It wavered weakly as it disappeared into the sky, like it was racing to the finish before Tweek did. His life slowly spiraled away as he asked, "Coming with me?"

"Isn't life here good enough?"

"Everyone's so slow." Tweek said, "They care about trivialities and are stuck in their own way of thinking and never truly see. They just go about their lives because of some fucking habit their parents taught them, and there's just no point. You really want to walk to the end? You really want to give up and follow everyone else?"

"I'm not the one giving up."

"I'm not giving up, I'm letting go." Tweek hopped off the edge of the roof and put a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to throw it off, but his grip was too tight. His fingers dug into my coat, and it was only when I looked at his outstretched forearm that I saw track marks and scars.

These were Kenny's wrists that I never saw. I had never seen a mark on his body, but I knew that he had been torturing himself in whatever ways he could.

I had tried to confront him a few months ago when I found bloody razors and filthy needles underneath his bed. I hadn't said anything, just held them up.

" _They're Bebe's."_ Kenny had shrugged,  _"Why, you think I'm suicidal?"_

" ______"_ I had said.

" _Don't worry, I'm not going to die soon."_ Kenny had laughed,  _"If I do die, I'll make sure you're right next to me."_

"||" The way he had stared at me was unnerving and I thought I saw something stirring underneath his parka.

I looked up at Tweek again, and wasn't surprised to see Kenny was grabbing me. He leaned in closer and opened his mouth wide trying to swallow me up.  _"Race ya! C'mon, you know you wanna!"_

I tried to punch Kenny but his body swirled like Tweek's breath and I missed. Kenny held me up and dragged me to the edge of the building, and I looked down at everyone else living their dreary lives. I saw someone stumble out of an alleyway and almost get run over by a car.

" _No one fucking cares."_ Stan had said,  _"No one cares, so why should I?"_

" _Why do you drink if you don't care?"_ I had asked.

" _Because I can't fucking help it!"_ Stan had yelled. This was soon after Bebe had been returned to us.  _"I want to not care, so I need this!"_

Stan didn't care, but he kept on living some half-existence where his body worked on automatic while his soul had drifted further to the finish line.

On the street corner there was a businessman in a three-piece suit striding to a meeting with his face focusing on the cracked sidewalk.

" _I can't worry about Stan, I have my own problems."_ Kyle had said. This was after I'd told him about Stan walking in front of a car and almost killing himself.  _"Dude, I know it's cold, but that's just how the world works."_

"…|| _"_

" _Don't just fucking stare at me like that. You'd do the same thing if you were in my position. Cartman was right to get away when he could."_

"_____~||" Hearing Kyle admit Cartman was right had been the last straw. I never spoke to him again. Kyle had finally given in to Cartman's cynicism, and would hate himself for abandoning his ideals. What did he have to live for?

I had been released.

Turning around in a muted fog, I saw Tweek staring eagerly at me. He stood besides me and nodded.

Then he released himself.

He passed the finish line first in a celebratory burst of crimson confetti. People spiraled away from the body, and I leaned over the edge, wondering if I would join Tweek.

_Race ya! Race ya!_

Kenny's voice drifted into my head, pushing me forward.  _"I think you're a monster in human skin…"_

I took a step over the edge, but before I could take another, a rush of fear shot through my body and I stumbled back. I saw Tweek's corpse lying on the ground, bones bent out of position. I saw a body that would never twitch again.  _"Everyone thinks we're so close, but we're actually so far away and so distant. Then we die, and no one notices because they still think we're shining."_

I remembered a scared boy staring at the stars whose light had been emitted millions of years before he had been born. Tweek had burnt out, but no one would ever know.

I thought I'd be questioned by the police. Tweek was right. No one knew. I wouldn't have known if Tweek hadn't reached out to me. I can't remember how I got back to South Park. The next day, life went on as usual. I felt short of breath. Kenny wasn't there either.

I blindly swam through murky waters and tried to act like I had life support. That evening, it came in the form of a note taped to my bed. Kenny had always been good at climbing. He climbed to the bottom while Tweek raced to the top. What difference was there, in the end?

I soon found that out.

_Your dreams have been real._

_That's something I never realized but should have told you._

_I'm sorry. This town's a cesspool that I can't live in. Neither can anyone else without having something in them die. You've seen it happen._

_Your dreams have been real, and you've been living a nightmare._

_I'm sorry for that._

That was the longest conversation I had with Kenny that was in pure English. Despite that, I could still fill in the gaps. It sort of went like this.

_Your dreams have been real~_

_That's something I never realized but should have told you*_

_*_ I was scared you'd run away from me. I was afraid that you'd never want to see me again.

_I'm sorry. This town's a cesspool that I can't live in_____ Neither can anyone else without having something in them die. You've seen it happen~_

_Your dreams have been real, and you've been living a nightmare*._

* I love you.

_I'm sorry for that*_

_*_ I love you

It's just that simple. I got out of South Park too. I'm in Denver now. Not far enough from South Park that my parents will complain, but not too close either. I don't know what happened to the others. I got swept away from them. But I need this language of mine. Whenever I'm talking with someone, or when I remember conversations I had with my old friends, or when I'm reading books, I need to translate it. I see footnotes that were never said and intentions that only I can see. I see people reaching out and moans that will never be heard. And I piece together a world of beautiful truths from silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This was my first time trying something weird in terms of storytelling, so please tell me how I did. Reviews are always appreciated.


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